


A Dark Room

by Ladiladida



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Cormoran’s birthday, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Resolved Sexual Tension, Smut, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Working away from london, blurred lines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 04:30:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21386137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladiladida/pseuds/Ladiladida
Summary: It started with a photograph, then an argument over a sofabed. Cormoran and Robin are working away on a case, close in confines and with feelings barely contained. Then one night, things change...
Relationships: Robin Ellacott & Cormoran Strike, Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 42
Kudos: 128





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I have an idea, how well it will go I’m not sure but let’s give it a shot aye? It’s cliched in the surface but I’m hoping I can work something interesting. 
> 
> Thank you all for your support so far in my various writings, you’re a great bunch of people! Thank you too for all the fab stories I get to read from you all.

2nd December 2014

The clock ticked to 9.17am on the morning of their departure. As Robin sat by the window of the hotel room, looking out across a steely sky, she was glad to see faint sun. The last month had just rained and the smell of rotting leaves on the pavement and feeling perpetually damp was tedious. Their room had given a nice enough view of a park opposite, sparser now autumn was drawing to a close, but at least it wasn’t the bins. 

Robin was watching out for Cormoran. The sofa bed she was sat on wasn’t that comfortable and she recalled the argument earlier in the week between herself and Cormoran. He hadn’t exactly acquiesced in her demand that he take the double bed. Rather, he’d had to accept defeat when after emerging from the shower the first night, she was already tucked up in the sofa bed. 

How long ago that seemed now, so much had happened this week. The sofa bed she was now seated on had not been pulled out beyond the second night of their nine day stay. So much had changed, she’d changed in some ways... or rather, she’d at last fully opened up. It seemed somewhat of a cliche that in having to pretend to be a couple, share a room and act the part they had ended up blurring the lines. But then those lines had slowly been blurring for some time.

Cormoran looked down at his nearly empty mug of coffee. Their client had left ten minutes earlier having settled his most recent bill in cash. Now he was just sat considering things, once he was back at the hotel they’d be checking out. It would be over.

Next to his mug was a Polaroid photograph, slightly dog eared on one corner but otherwise pristine. This had been the start of it, no... this has been the catalyst... there was no way that mere friendship brought about such a thing. The snapshot was a window into so many things, the past and the present. It channelled with it such bittersweet feelings, such elation and such sadness. It meant the world, something so tiny really did mean the world.

Though the sun was hazy in the late November sky, Cormoran had developed a fondness for these wet, darker nights of late. Tucked away as they had been, swapping notes and everything else, it had been intimate beyond belief. Yes, he was going to miss their time away from London. He’d never again associate any darkness of the night with such... happiness.

Robin heard the door click and Cormoran entered, giving a light rap as he did so in case he’d surprise her. Their bags rested on the bed, though Robin didn’t move. Check out wasn’t for another 40 minutes so there was no real rush. She certainly was in no rush at all. The room, plain as it was, would forever mean more to her than few would ever know.

“All settled.” He remarked, waving the envelope in the air before walking to his bag and placing it in.  
“You weren’t long, I thought you’d be ages.” Robin replied, her knees hugged to her chest like a child. Her tone was light, her eyes big and piercing as always.  
“He found the knack for punctuality in the end.”

Instinctively, Cormoran walked to the tiny, primitive kettle and finding it still full, clicked it on.  
“Tea?” He asked and she nodded. Proceeding in silence, Cormoran felt Robin’s gaze on him all the time. In recent months, he’d started to sense more about her seeker feelings than before. He knew she seemed apprehensive, but then so did he. With a final toss of a tea bag into the bin, he handed her a mug and seated himself on the edge of the double bed. They were barely a metre apart, yet the room seemed strangely claustrophobic all of a sudden. This elephant in the room was taking up all the space.

“Are we going to talk about this?” Robin asked as normally as she could. Sat where he was now, Robin couldn’t help but remember Cormoran shattering her senses to pieces on that very mattress only hours earlier. 

“It’s not a bad idea.” He said with a small smile, it was his attempt at reassurance.

“I...” she swallowed hard, she was just going to say it. “I don’t want it to stop.”

Cormoran hadn’t expected her to be quite so to the point and the words washed over him. So lost as he was in what she said, his silence made her anxious.

“Cormoran?”


	2. Risky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the start and it begins with a birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the love for this so far. I hope you continue to enjoy this chapter.

23rd November 2014

Robin sat at her computer, keeping her eyes peeled on the door in case Cormoran were to suddenly appear. In truth, he never ‘suddenly appeared’ into the office, but her senses were heightened and her stomach buzzed excitedly. Everything was covered and ready, she had arranged to meet Nick and Ilsa with Strike later on, Nick jokingly insisting on at least having one 21 years balloon present. Robin’s eyes couldn’t help drifting to her bag that rested near her feet, the two crisp, white envelopes vaguely poked out. Where had she got such a risky idea from? She knew full well, but she was still shocked by her own actions.

Two months earlier, on a hazy September night, she had accompanied him to an evening soirée in honour of some famous photographer for a London based issue. This was not in a professional capacity, Cormoran’s scowl depicted quite strongly from the moment he received the first phone call regarding it. It had hung there, small traces of it even when she’d had him laughing in the days leading up to it. Afterwards, duty done, they’d headed to the pub and he found himself knocking a few pints back, the scowl lightening but a mixture of sadness and relief enveloping him.

“Lucy is fucking lucky, no one knows she exists.” He’d said rather bluntly and Robin remembered how she couldn’t hide the raising of her eyebrows. “I mean to those sorts of tosspots, all swanning round. I don’t want to be fawned over and regailed with stories of my mum. They didn’t know her, not really.”  
“I think, from what you’ve said, your memories are the important ones.” Robin had replied, “The best way is to remember someone warts and all, but to focus on the good bits. They often last the longest.”  
“Yeah.” He replied not sounding convinced at first, but then he’d given her hand a quick squeeze in appreciation.

What followed hadn’t been exactly intentional, she didn’t deliberately seek out what was in the envelope. Ilsa had discussed with her that their ought to be some look back at his nearly forty years on the planet. He avoided photographs at the best of times, then there were the Charlotte years to avoid. Robin had taken on the mantle of obtaining pictures of ‘young Cormoran’, covertly liaising with Joan and Ted to get a few. Ilsa would trawl their own developed archives from years of friendship.

So the picture had been an accident, yet it had stayed with Robin from the moment she beheld it.

An hour later, Cormoran entered the office and seated himself leisurely on the sofa, resting his prosthesis. Robin automatically made them both a drink and then pulled up her computer chair to sit nearer to him.

“So...” she asked, “had the day past with most people not knowing you’re now ancient?” 

Her laugh lightened his mood further. Cormoran didn’t give two shits for his birthday, but an evening with his good friends... and Robin was the best prospect. He wouldn’t want to spend the evening with anyone else.

“Lucy phoned, so we’re all caught up.” He laughed, though he’d made more of a conscious effort on the phone ever since the Jack incident some years earlier. “They’ve bought me a forty year old bottle of whisky.”

“Sounds perfect.” Robin replied with a smile.

“So these birthday plans...” Cormoran asked.

“No surprise party, no one jumping out a cake, though there may be a balloon.”

“Whose idea?”

“Nick’s.”

“That’s a relief.” Cormoran sighed, rubbing his eyes and taking a long gulp of tea. “I knew there’d be something, but I’m glad I have you to make sure it stays sensible.”

“It’s fancy dress.” Robin joked.

“Then I’m not coming.”

“That’s harsh.” Robin continued. “I’ve spent all week bending pipe cleaners and moulding bin bags to my will.”

“What were you making?”

“Well now you’ll never know.”

Without thinking, Robin winked at him. The tone had slid into that realm of easy playfulness again, this was happening a lot lately. Fighting to keep her cheeks from blushing, she swore she saw Cormoran likewise masking a small smile.

“All packed for our job?” Cormoran asked, changing the subject. They were heading north in the morning.

“Not a pant.”

“Me neither.” Cormoran replied, “If this place really is the source of blackmail, it’s going to cause a stir in more than one marriage.”

“We’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Suddenly, Robin felt nervous. Originally, she planned to give him his gift in the presence of Nick and Ilsa, but now felt the right time. It was a risky gift, close to the bone but she couldn’t help but think even a small part of him would be glad of it. Getting up, she pulled out the two envelopes and handed them to him. Cormoran gave a look of mock grave reverence as he received them from her. Clumsily, he ripped down the side of the card envelope and read the inside. There was no escaping the smile in what he read, though she had barely written anything in it.

“Be careful with the other one.” She remarked. “I hope...”

But he was already opening the second envelope. Robin hadn’t been sure how to parcel it, it seemed a small item that represented something huge in his past. It felt wrong to dress it up just for effect. 

Cormoran pulled out the Polaroid picture, his eyes first looking to Robin in amusement before he studied its contents. That was when his face had changed, the ruefulness evaporated and he became a blank canvas. In an instant, Robin’s heart sank, it had been a mistake.


	3. Swallow me up

23rd November 2014

The moment drained away all feeling from the room and the colour from Robin’s face. Cormoran’s own was still unreadable and the tension was too much to bear. Fighting back the pricking in her eyes, she swallowed hard and waited. How she wished she could be swallowed up in a dark hole. Eventually, Cormoran sat up fully, placing the picture in the pocket of his still worn coat.

“Thank you.” He said normally, betraying nothing. This is what Robin hated, when she couldn’t read the situation. Had she upset him?

“Sorry... I er...” Robin rose from her seat wheeling it back. “I wasn’t sure what to get you... there’s only so many ways they can package up Cornwall.”

Cormoran sensed her unease, he knew he’d unsettled her. But what he’d just received had knocked him sideways in a poignant way and he needed a moment to collect himself.

“It’s...” he mumbled, “Thanks... anyway, I best get changed.”

“Me too.” She replied hurriedly.

Cormoran walked to the door but knew if he left it like that, the evening he was so looking forward to would be ruined. Turning on his heel, he approached Robin, bent his head and kissed her on the cheek.

“Thank you, Robin.” He said again, keeping his tone light. “I’ll see you later.”

Once he’d left the room, a stunned Robin moved to the sofa and seated herself. Confused beyond belief, she replayed the scenario.

He’d kissed her cheek, he wasn’t angry.

He’d left suddenly.

He didn’t say he liked it. 

He wasn’t angry.

A thought came to her, perhaps a pang if grief had hit him, being confronted with his mum when he wasn’t expecting it. It was a part of his history that he kept private, Robin regretted intruding now. But, he wasn’t angry, he’d kissed her cheek. 

Knowing the days ahead of them, she would have to get past this. It was unfortunate, but not unsalvageable. Robin was determined to start that tonight. Picking up her belongings, she left the office.

Two hours later, the four friends were sat in a curry house, good wine and beer flowing and all at ease. Robin had returned home to change before meeting them there. She’d found Cormoran outside finishing a cigarette when she arrived. Once inside and seated, Ilsa had nudged her and murmured.

“He’s been outside waiting for you for half an hour.”

Robin brushed this off with a shrug and a smile, happy that Nick and Cormoran were too busy chatting to notice the exchange. 

Though agreeing not to subject Cormoran to a party, Nick and Ilsa had one demand. Each of the three of them would make a small toast to the birthday boy throughout the night, seated obviously. And before the night was over, Cormoran too had to account something about his forty years of existence. He had agreed on the premise that after each of the first three speeches, he was given a pint. 

The laughter and chat flowed happily, Cormoran enjoying his birthday exceedingly. Robin, in his eyes, looked radiant as ever. But tonight, it was painful (more than normal at any rate) to look at her. She was relaxed and merry, but he knew from her eyes there was still some unease about their earlier exchange. 

Concerned he’d upset her, he’d waited outside to test her out. At present, he didn’t have the words to respond to her gift. It was raw and he might betray more than intended. He would discuss it with her when he was calmer. But on her arrival, peachy skinned with her rose gold hair framing her lovely face, he saw she seemed settled enough for now.   
However, an hour into dinner, he felt less certain. But Robin being the woman she was, she wouldn’t let this spoil a night both had looked forward to. Yet he couldn’t deny, what she’d done had found a chink in his armour.

When it was time for Robin to make her small toast in honour of Cormoran’s birthday, her stomach had that same lurch as earlier. How could she sum up her partner, colleague, friend and... and everything in between on the spot like that. 

Perhaps it would be easier if he were just a colleague. There was little chance if that, even from that first time when she found him drowning his sorrows over Charlotte. It was all the bloody harder with him sat opposite her, looking at her... looking at her in a way she couldn’t read.

“Well...” she cleared her throat. “I suppose the best way I can put it is... I’ve lived more in the years I’ve known you Cormoran, than I ever have. You might’ve nearly killed me on our first meeting, but you’ve stood by me and supported me whilst I buggared about finding what I really love. I think you all know, for one reason or another, I’ve never quite had the support that made it so simple.”

Robin looked Cormoran directly in the eye and told a truth that hid a deep rooted lie.

“You’ve helped make everything so simple.”

There was a pause, Nick was about to interject with a joke but Ilsa nudged his foot. 

“You’re also bloody stubborn and a bit of a nightmare.” Robin continued, trying to lighten a moment that seemed so charged. “But the work we do together, what we’ve achieved together... well... it’s better at its worst than my life before was at its best. So... thank you Cormoran, happy birthday.”

Nick and Ilsa raised their glasses and Robin pushed the fresh, promised pint to Cormoran. They clinked glasses, eyes meeting. His face wore a smile, but she still couldn’t or daren’t try and interpret the look in his eyes, not after earlier. The rest of the night passed happily, so much so that when they all stood on the kerb, slightly tipsy, Ilsa remembered.

“You didn’t make a speech, Corm.” She slurred, pulling on her husband’s arm for support. Ilsa and her husband were drunker than Cormoran and Robin. The afternoon had added a sobering affect to the evening, but he had still thoroughly enjoyed it. A taxi pulled up and Nick moved to open the door. Cormoran moved to Ilsa and kissed her cheek before saying.

“I’m Cormoran Strike and I’ve just turned forty, feeling nearer fifty and glad to bloody have you. Now get in the taxi.”

He was laughing whilst he said this and handed Ilsa to her husband. A hearty shoulder slap was given to him from the latter, before they both climbed in. Ilsa waved tipsily as the taxi pulled away, leaving Cormoran looking amused and Robin holding his 21 years balloon.

“Shall we let that out into the wild?” He asked, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep drag.

“I think that counts as littering.” Robin reply and she gestures to the weight in her hand. “It wouldn’t go far.”

“I could put my cigarette out on it.” He joked, Robin shook her head.

“I’ll take it for now.”

“People will believe you’re twenty one. I don’t think I ever looked it.”

“It’s going in the office.”

“And out the office window.” He explained ruefully. Robin sensed that playful ease returning and she remembered she’d been drinking. For the sake of self preservation, she hailed an approaching cab. Another followed close behind, Cormoran likewise stuck out his arm, tossing his nearly smoked cigarette.

“You look very nice tonight, Ellacott.” He said, opening her taxi door. “Thanks for the kind words too.”

“You’re welcome... I’ll... I’ll see you tomorrow at nine. I best pack when I get in.”

Without another word, but a short look, Robin climbed into the taxi. She took care not to burst the balloon. Cormoran watched her depart for a few seconds, then climbed into his own taxi. 

Once back at home, the after affects of good food, good drink and the best company, he felt good. Yet with it brought the memories of Robin through the day, her thoughtfulness, her happiness and her confusion. All were worn in equal loveliness on her face. How he wished he were ending his birthday carrying her to bed. He’d have settled for sleeping with her in his arms... though his mind strayed out of those parameters soon enough. Snapping out of it, feeling a cold shower would ensure the best rest for the night, he moved to the bathroom. 

Stopping, he walked to his overcoat and took out the photograph, taking a long look. The photo was of his mother, he had no idea who had taken it but the back indicated it was taken in April 1974. His mother’s long curtain of hair hung over one shoulder as she was bending to adjust the buckle on the white vinyl boots she wore. Her head however was turned in conversation to someone seated next to her and she was laughing. The other person had their back to the camera, Leda was the entire focus.

To see his mum, carefree and happy at a party, early in stage of carrying him... it brought a tear to his eyes. From looking at her he knew, aside from the glass held in her hand, she was perfectly present. No drugs, no hedonistic actions, just enjoying a moment of joy. 

After all the media pictures available online and her supergroupie antics featured in that gallery showcase two months earlier, this was a blessing. He wasn’t asked to glorify in the nostalgia of her ‘wild’ antics that started with his father before eventually leading to Whittaker. This was the side of his mother he remembered fondly. How had Robin found this?


	4. Cover Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, this fic is back! Thank you for any lovely comments and kudos so far.

24th November 2014

Armed with two bacon sandwiches, two strong coffees and as much grit as she could muster, Robin arrived at the office. She’d decided not to go up, waiting near the Landrover seemed a safer position. Upon receiving her text, Cormoran had descended quickly, carrying an away bag over his shoulder, brow only slightly furrowed. His demeanour changed upon seeing her, Robin was sure it was the sight of the bacon sarnie and coffee. At the very least, she hoped it had taken the edge of the previous day’s mistake. Both climbed into the Landrover and whilst Robin tapped in their route, Cormoran began immediately to devour his breakfast.  
“You alright?” He asked normally.  
“Fine, yeah.” She replied, feeling slightly less uneasy, they’d talk about the picture later. There were things to discuss about their latest job on the journey. 

Setting off, both continued with their breakfast as they escaped London to head north.  
“Thanks again for last night.” Cormoran said, mouth half full. “Texted Nick this morning, Ilsa was sick in a bin on the way home.”  
“Blimey.” Robin laughed, “if you saw her in court, you’d never imagine that.”  
“Very true, we’re in on the secret!”

Cormoran was keeping things so light it was making Robin more nervous. They should be discussing their fictional narrative for this case and how they were going to tackle a blackmailer using a hotel specialised for discreet liaisons. The SatNav said it would take them three and a half hours and Robin wasn’t sure she could keep her peace that long.

“Can I just say something?” She blurted and before he could even nod she continued. “I didn’t mean to upset you yesterday, I came across it by accident and I remembered how much you hated all the gallery supergroupie pictures. I wasn’t sure how many photos you had of your... of her. If I over stepped the mark, I’m sorry.”

Cormoran listened to her, his heart thumping in his chest though he betrayed nothing. She thought she’d upset him? If only he could tell her it was entirely the opposite.  
“Look Robin, being confronted with a photo of her was a surprise but, it doesn’t upset me. That’s all my reaction was, just surprise. I didn’t know the photo existed and I’m very grateful that you got it for me. You couldn’t have got me a better gift. Now, can we get back to normal, stop worrying!”

This was somewhat of a lie of course, there was one thing only that Robin could give him that would trump even that photo, but that really was the stuff of dreams.  
“Alright.” Robin laughed with relief, “normal service resumes.”  
“Good.”  
“Now what’s the story for the hotel?”  
“Simple, we’re well known now, but we’re in a relationship that we don’t want to be the focus of in the media. You’re still in the midst of a divorce and as we all know...” Cormoran gave a ridiculous jaunty shake of the head, so sarcastically delivered and unCormoran like. “I am the bachelor about town.”  
“So... we’re not making anything up at all?” Robin laughed then realising what she’d said she babbled. “Except obviously that we’re...”  
“Sleeping together.” Cormoran finished.  
“Yeah.”  
“That’s right, keeps things simple.” He explained as both tried to keep the heat in their cheeks on a low ebb.  
“Well, that will make it easy to remember... it’s just strange. It’s been a while since I’ve just been me on a case.”  
“I booked us a family room so there’s a double bed and a sofa bed, it’ll be a bit different but we’ll manage won’t we?” Cormoran asked, secretly enjoying the fact that at the very least, however awkward he’d get to spend a week in Robin’s company on a more intimate level.  
“Absolutely.” Robin replied with such cheerfulness that she made her own stomach churn. “And we’re hoping that’s enough to make us the target.”  
“We can play it by ear... we might need to you know...” Cormoran explained.  
“Some PDA?”  
“Yeah, but just natural. That’s why it was best to just be us, the best lies have an element of truth.”  
“But the notes said this person isn’t always after money. It sounds more like a power trip, particularly with the last two. And, it seems to me anyway that... well... ruining the hotel is the financial gain. Blackmailing customers just seems to be a bit of fun.”  
“Exactly and that’s the point. People get lazy when they’re having fun, people make mistakes.”  
“I mean, you’d think the hotel owners would just keep their noses out and just run a normal hotel. But all this cloak and dagger business, helping people have assignations well they’re sort of asking for it in one way.”  
“Well they’re offering something for those that enjoy a bit more luxury than a quick bang in a Travel Lodge.” Cormoran laughed and soon Robin smiled.  
“It’s like having Shakespeare in the car.”


	5. Turf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick chapter, mainly about fancying each other. Thank you for the love for this fic. You’re a very supportive and encouraging bunch!

24th November 2014

There was a deeply inconvenient truth emerging in Cormoran Strike’s mind. It really did add extra weight to an already snowballing issue. Since arriving at the hotel and checking in to their shared room, both starving, things took a turn. Robin now looked at him, cheeks burning accompanied by a hard stare. They had been arguing for a good 5 minutes about who would sleep on the sofa bed. Each had volunteered much to the disagreement of the other. Now, Robin really was quite annoyed that he wouldn’t take the double bed. 

She stubbornly sat upon the mattress of the sofa bed, arms folded and glowing with displeasure. Here was the inconvenient point, she looked a different sort of attractive when stirred by anger. He couldn’t help but admire her obstinacy on this point, however frustrated he was that she also wouldn’t give way. It made him fancy her like mad, palms burning to take hold of her waist and kiss those lips to offer reparation. If he did that, it would give him everything he ever wanted... whilst bringing an end to the sofa bed turf war. Yet he did not stir an inch to do so, he knew she didn’t feel that way.

“I’m sat here now so you can put your bloody things over there where YOU’RE sleeping.” She said with a air of command he couldn’t help but enjoy. A fleeting thought on how such energies could be used elsewhere flashed in his mind. He was a dominant lover to be sure, never afraid to take the lead, but by Christ she could have him however she liked. He’d let her boss him around from first touch of lips right through to the explosion of stars. He was in serious, serious trouble. 

Robin was relieved when he acquiesced though he said nothing. She imagined she’d probably pissed him off... well it served him right for he’d pissed her off too. She was starving, somewhat sleepy and now she was riled. Adrenaline buzzed around her body hurriedly, only there was no room in her stomach for that fluttered with a different kind of nervous energy. Currently, she felt she could both box his ears and kiss him. It was very unhelpful when she was trying to make a point.

That very morning they’d made their peace over the photograph, now they’d fallen out over a bed. Looking over at Cormoran, she saw him begin to unpack his case, his back to her. Was he in a mood? Robin wasn’t sure, yet her temper seemed to ebb suddenly. Walking over to him, she tapped him on the shoulder. Turning, his large frame loomed over her, his eyes looking at her normally.

“Lessons learnt,” Robin began with a small smile. “We shouldn’t make decisions on an empty stomach. Agreed?”

After a second, he grinned back at her.

“Agreed. There’s a cafe two doors down.”

“Then sod this, I want some lunch.” Robin laughed and he responded in kind.

“But you’re now my girlfriend when we step out of here.”

“I think I can deal with that.”

“Thanks.” He retorted dryly. “I’ve never really been one for holding hands much, I find it just gets you dragged about. But...”

Cormoran put out his hand and offered it to Robin. He wasn't lying when he said he wasn’t the hand holding type, but he’d enjoy holding hers. He remembered steering her drunken frame to the hotel the night she’d broke off her engagement. That arm about her waist had felt good, it could be in the realm of possibility again. Robin looked at the offered hand, her stomach flipped once and she mentally told herself to get a grip. Placing her own hand in his paw like hold, they left the scene of contention and went in search of appeasement.


	6. Privacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost forgot the plot here 😂. Can’t forget that amidst the pining, frustration and impending smut.

24th November 2014

Margaret Clement, the Manager of the hotel sat opposite Cormoran and Robin in her bleached white office. Colour was devoid from the room except cold grey curtains and a trendy yet uncomfortable matching sofa and office chair. Robin sat by Cormoran who had taken out his notebook and begun asking general questions about the Margaret’s history of running the hotel. Once the basics were ascertained, Margaret took out a printed email and handed it to Cormoran.

“One of my customers who has had blackmail recently has written a detailed account there of their experiences. I can’t begin to tell you how mortifying it is to have three or four customers within an eight month period complain of this. It’s always sourced back here. One of the clients, who I’ll keep anonymous is now so anxious, they’ve advised friends who stay here to to look elsewhere.”

Cormoran took the email, skimming over the contents before handing it to Robin.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what limits do you go to on behalf of your clients to ensure privacy?”  
“Well, it’s a private understanding, people are usually recommended here by word of mouth from others. It began not long after we opened, a friend of mine was in an unhappy marriage and had found love... but... circumstances meant they had to be careful... we provided a haven. Soon after she came to me asking if we could offer the same help to another friend of hers. From there it’s grown.”

“What happens if a suspicious spouse or partner calls or arrives?”  
“When arranging the stay, we discuss with our customers arrangements and if need be... I suppose you could call them code words to maintain privacy. We adopt a similar procedure to a lot of chain hotels, you need a room key to access the corridors for rooms.”  
“And how many people do you have supporting these privacy arrangements?” Cormoran continued.  
“Well there’s myself, Daniel, my husband. Then Kerry and Gareth also work various shifts alongside us. We can alert or update clients through a text or messenger service should anything come up and excuses for client whereabouts are previously discussed.”  
“Do you use NDAs for your staff?” Robin chipped in, trying to sound casual and not disconcerted by the level of deception offered by a hotel.  
“No... but I suppose you could say I have chosen my staff very carefully. They’d know better than to shout their mouth off.” Margaret replied dryly. “We did look into NDAs, but I want to operate on trust for as long as it will carry me.”

The irony was not lost on either Cormoran or Robin. As Margaret searched for another piece of information, a quick glance between the two meant Robin had to repress a smile. 

“That client also attached a list of items sent or used for the blackmail. Several were private exchanges from their phone, though he reports that at no point was his phone stolen or infected with malware.”  
“Do the photographs strongly identify your client?” Cormoran asked and Margaret here went a little pink in the cheeks.  
“Er... his wife certainly will be able to identify him... yes.”

Cormoran laughed inwardly at her awkwardness regarding the well known ‘dick pic’, yet as ever his professional veneer did not move.  
“So far, has this client been exposed by his blackmailer?”  
“No, he has been paying the money but... with that and his stays here... it’s both costly and counterproductive. He is a well thought of customer here, I’d much rather keep him.

‘I bet you would.’ Thought Robin, though she offered Margaret a sympathetic smile.  
“Would your customer be willing to meet with us do you think?” Cormoran asked, “Once we’ve had a detailed look at what you’ve given us.”  
“I can ask them.”  
“Robin and I will do our best to make ourselves a target. How many of your staff know that you’ve hired us?”  
“Just my husband.”  
“It would be best to keep it that way. In the meantime, Robin’s ex husband is quite paranoid that though he’s committed adultery that Robin and I have been for some time. Exposure could be costly to her and well... the press are interested in us enough.” Cormoran explained and Margaret gave a nod of understanding. “If you can let your staff know that.”

It felt strange to Robin, everything Cormoran said was true, yet she did not feel at all concerned of embedding their private lives into this case. It was after all the price of being high profile in a number of cases now. Their anonymity was exposed, there’d be fewer opportunities to be Bobby Cunliffe’s and other alias’ now.

Once out of the hotel, the pair walked to the nearby seafront and took up a bench on the quieter end. It was a pleasant evening not far from sunset, a light sea breeze lapping at them.  
“How much do you know about Bluetooth, Cormoran?” Robin asked.  
“A bit but you know, I’m not mad on hands free much.”  
“She said the client’s phone was compromised, it would be interesting to find out how much they use Bluetooth. A friend from home had some information stolen once through bluesnarfing.” Robin explained, and she saw Cormoran smile. “What?”  
“Nothing.” He laughed and she elbowed him playfully, the fight from the afternoon long dissipated.  
“Just... your brain is always on alert. Sometimes I forget and it’s a nice reminder.”  
“Well... thank you.” Robin said, not sure quite how to take the comment. Cormoran tapped her form arm lightly.  
“You know what I mean.”


	7. Evening

The pair sat opposite one another in the mood lit bistro of the hotel. Booths were placed in such a manner to offer as much privacy to clients as possible. It amazed Robin how so much was constructed to enable people’s hidden life. Their meal ‘slot’ was 8 until 9.30pm and this meant they’d be seen by few others staying there. 

Before returning to the hotel, the pair had discussed as easily as they could how evenings in the room would operate. They had stayed in hotels together, but never in the same room. It was agreed that tonight at least, Robin could have a fifteen minute head start to prep for bed. However for appearances sake, it couldn’t be the same every night. 

Throughout the meal, Robin made little touches to Cormoran’s hand and fed him one or two forkfuls from her plate. At one point, she even stroked her foot against the ankle of his remaining leg. Inwardly, she had been fine with the hand touching and feeding, but the foot action had nearly made her go crimson. Little did she realise though that she played with her hair more often and at one point was circling the rim of her wine glass. Nervous yet professional, she allowed herself the usual ease between them, only taking care on her wine intake.

Cormoran watched Robin throughout the night, admiring how the sea air had brought a natural glow to her skin. She looked revived after the drive, argument and interviews. In truth she looked lovely. It was a strange sort of privilege to pass a week with her like this. Though it frightened him to death. Earlier on, his blood had reached boiling point seeing her so animated. Now, looking at her, that warmth of deeper feelings flooded him. He wanted her sure, but he loved her.

“We’ll have to go for a wander up the beach tomorrow if it’s nice.” Robin suggested. “Assuming...”  
“I won’t keep sinking on one side, don’t worry.” He smiled ruefully and enjoyed the way he made hers broaden. Somehow until Robin he never had real proof about how character could add to a person’s beauty. He’d thought Robin sexy from day one, yet where she stood next to Charlotte now, he’d never choose another but her.  
“I thought maybe, you know... we could take advantage of not working and catch a few siestas this week?” Robin continued normally as though they really were together. This remark partnered with one eyebrow playfully raised made Cormoran nearly forget that they weren’t. It suddenly became very hot.  
“The more the better.” He replied reaching for her hand and rubbing his thumb over the back of it, his eyes never leaving hers. For half a minute they were suspended like that, lost in the moment. Then the waiter, Gareth approached.

“Would either of you like any after dinner coffees or brandys at all?”  
Robin slowly removed her gaze from Cormoran and attended to Gareth.  
“None for me but can he have a double whisky, please.”  
Gareth nodded but Robin continued to Cormoran whilst the waiter was still in ear shot.  
“That should keep you busy for fifteen minutes or so?”  
Of course Cormoran knew what she really meant, but the way she said it, so low and soft. It flowed with such smoothness from her lips, Cormoran felt a bolt of need shoot right through him. Gareth was now out of earshot and Robin stood up, gently resting her napkin on the table. 

Leaning forward she moved to kiss the top of his head, but Cormoran tipped his face upwards, his lips catching hers. For a second, each experienced a thousand sensations flood them, yet each knew this was not real. They must not delude themselves otherwise. Cormoran was glad however that he wasn’t required to stand up at that exact moment. He’d need some recovery time.  
“See you up there.” She said softly and quitted the dining room. It was no surprise therefore that when Gareth brought the whisky, Cormoran gulped it down in one and requested another.

Back in the room, Robin snatched up her fleecy pyjamas from the inside zip compartment of her case. She had taken care to put her silky, scantier ones in the drawer with everything else. One thing, at least her nice lingerie got out of the drawer at home for a bit, even just for a change of scene. They’d been gathering dust for too long, some still with tags on. Robin showered, brushed her teeth and plaited her hair. Jumping into her bed, she pulled the covers up to her shoulders. There, she remained until she heard the sound of footsteps and the click of the key card. He had been longer than fifteen minutes, she thought.

Cormoran couldn’t knock, nor could he verbally check before entering. It wouldn’t matter if they were a couple. Stepping inside, he closed the door and shut his eyes for as yet the beds were not visible to him.  
“Everything okay?” He asked quietly.  
“Yes, come in.”

The sight of Robin all cosy both amused him and endeared her further to those feelings long held. Though still feeling guilty about the bed situation, he didn’t dare bring it up again.  
“Am I okay to...”  
“Yeah of course.”  
“Shall I turn the lights out, I’ll just leave this lamp on. I don’t need an embarrassing trip to A&E.”  
“No you don’t.” She replied, and it appeared to him Robin wasn’t at all perturbed by this set up. In fact she seemed serenely calm more than any other time this evening. She was stronger than him, she hadn’t fallen so typically as he had. It had been the same with Charlotte, he’d fallen hard there too. It was the only way for him, all or nothing. At least though his heart would break the day Robin found someone else, he would be whole otherwise. Charlotte had taken him apart, Robin had helped rebuild him.

In the confines of the shower, balancing carefully, he tried to calm himself. It was a catch 22, a cold shower would quell those heated feelings now raging, but they would also keep him awake longer. Cormoran wanted nothing more than to get in bed and fall asleep immediately, barely being aware of something so precious sleeping only metres away. 

Through the sound of the water spray he heard a noise, it was the television. In her consideration, Robin was trying to give him as much privacy as possible. With that in mind, ashamed as he was, his hand lowered and he began to release tension in the only way he could. Of course, the thoughts and desires continually looped back to her, it was natural in his predicament. 

He thought of a stroll on the beach, Robin’s eyes glistening and cheeks glowing only to return to the hotel room in the afternoon. There he would undress her, place her bare legs over his shoulders and devour her until she couldn’t take any more. The thought made him come hard, and he clenched his mouth shut to muffle the sound. A tooth caught the inside of his cheek and he winced amid the delirium. 

If only he knew some little time earlier in that very stall, she had been thinking the very same of him.

A little while later, both now lay in their respective beds, the tv silenced. Each were physically sated yet had a guilty conscience. Reaching over, Cormoran turned off the lamp.  
“Goodnight, Robin.”  
“Goodnight, Cormoran.”


End file.
